Don't Say A Word
by panicattackkisses
Summary: Don't say a word... you'll scare them off. A week with Stydia cuteness, seen through the eyes of their friends.


When Allison spotted Lydia stroll into school on Monday morning, her eyes widened in surprise. She nudged Scott who almost choked on the remainder of his breakfast as he saw what the girl was looking at and Isaac dropped his books, letting paper fall from his locker without any notice.  
Lydia was holding hands with Stiles. They both looked nervous, unsure of the innocent display. Lydia twirled her hair around her finger nervously, biting her lip anxiously. Stiles glanced around the crowded halls nervously before looking back to the floor, inspecting the grubby tiles with too much interest. The whole time, the clutched at each other – their hands interlocked and showing no signs of letting go any time soon. The girl watched with a melting heart as Stiles rubbed his thumb softly over Lydia's knuckles. She gripped his hand tighter in response, freeing her tortured lip from her worrying teeth.  
Allison rounded on the boys, a fierce look on her face. ''Act normal!'' she hissed at the pair, ''Do not say a word!''  
Scott and Isaac nodded obediently, still astonished at the sudden change of dynamics.

Danny smiled knowingly as he observed Stiles and Lydia in chemistry on Tuesday. The sat together at a lab bench, much closer than they had ever dared to before. Their heads were bent together, taking turns looking through a microscope as they whispered softly to each other. Stiles would lean into her, murmuring words to her gently, making a blush appear across her cheeks. His lips would graze the shell of her ear and she would stare at him, at his lips, his eyes. She would bite her lip in response – every single time – Danny noted.  
Their legs would brush under the desk, their knees would knock together and Lydia would lightly run her small foot along the inside of Stiles' leg, making him drop his pen – and train of thought – more than once. Beside Danny, Ethan spotted the scene unfolding and he chuckled.  
Danny raised his eyebrows at the boy with a smirk.  
''I don't have a clue how that happened… just don't say a word.''

Wednesday afternoon almost brought Scott to his knees as he witnessed Stiles walking Lydia home from school. He watched from across the road as the pair strolled hand in hand, laughing and smiling so hard their cheeks must have ached. They didn't even notice him; they were oblivious in their own world together.  
Scott watched his best friend raise Lydia's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her skin as she smiled bashfully at him. Stiles spun her round with one hand, smiling as she pirouetted down the sidewalk. He heard their open, honest laughter and grinned with them. The sight was amazing to see.  
Lydia's hair was a mess from her twirling but she didn't seem to care, her eyes shone with laughter and her tiny frame was cocooned in the too-big jumper that belonged to Stiles. Lydia grinned as she jumped on the boy's back, squealing with joy has he spun them with abandon.  
As Scott reached his house, his mother greeted him at the door; immediately looking past her son and to the laughing pair in the distance. She looked at Scott with surprise in her features.  
Shrugging with a smile, Scott merely replied, ''Don't say a word'''.

On Thursday, Kira was ready to burst with contained joy. She sat across from Stiles and Lydia at lunch, watching the pair with unashamed fascination as they interacted. Their movements were seamless and fluid around each other, their actions mirroring the other.  
They shared smiles they thought no one else noticed and small touches that Kira was tempted to take pictures of. Stiles tucked a stray lock of hair behind Lydia's ear and she smiled warmly at him in response before tucking herself into his side, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck. Stiles would softly trace patterns over her open palm as he spoke about lacrosse with Scott, acting as if nothing was different, nothing had changed. They spoke softly to one another, wrapped in their own little bubble; exchanging warm glances and knowing looks.  
When the bell rang to signal the next period, Stiles pressed a soft kiss to the top of Lydia's head and Kira had to press her fist to her mouth, covering the girlish squeal that threatened to erupt. Isaac nudged her with a knowing smile, mouthing, '_'Don't say a word!_''

The pack was left shell-shocked and utterly speechless on Friday night. They ended up at a senior's party, beer cups strewn across the living room floor as teens danced and drank – shouting at each other and finding out who was hear with whom. Allison and Kira were in the kitchen, chatting together and not so slyly watching Stiles and Lydia in the corner. The girls had awed and cooed over their friends. The pair was wrapped around each other and had been for the whole night. The flow of alcohol had lowered their usual inhibitions and the displays of affection were rising.  
Lydia was talking animatedly to Stiles, her eyes shining as the alcohol took effect. Stiles nodded absentmindedly, his gaze hazy and fixed on the Lydia's red lips.  
Scott, Isaac, Danny and the twins returned, handing the now full cups back to the awaiting girls. When they were left without a thank you, or even a glance, the boys turned to see what had captured Allison and Kira's attention.  
Stiles and Lydia were in the corner, partially concealed by the dark shadows. With every flash of neon light, the group saw more of the scene unfold.  
Stiles had pressed Lydia into the countertop behind her; one had roaming over the patch of uncovered skin between her skirt and top. The other cupped her head gently, holding her as if she was precious. Lydia held onto him fiercely, her tiny hands bunched into the fabric of his t-shirt – as if she was holding on for dear life.  
Their lips collided, their cheeks were flushed. The music pounded and vibrated throughout the house, matching their hurried, frantic movements and desperate breaths.  
''Oh my God.''  
''How…?''  
''People are staring.''  
''Holy shit.''  
Allison took charge, shaking away the excitement she felt for her friends. ''Guys!'' The pack finally tore their eyes away from the scene, looking at her expectantly.  
''Not a word, right?''  
Everyone nodded.

Saturday evening found the pack together at Stiles' house – camped out in his living room with pizzas, duvets and a collection of DVD's. The sheriff had left them too it, smiling warmly at Lydia before he left for the office. Stiles took his usual seat on the end of the sofa as the rest of his friends got settled. When Lydia returned from the kitchen, she bypassed her customary spot beside Allison and tiptoed her way over juice bottles and pizza boxes to Stiles.  
He opened his arms for as she fell into them without any hesitation. She curled herself on top of his lap, her body flush against his own as he pulled her closer. Stiles rested his chin on top of her curls, his hands playing with the hem of her shirt as Lydia's hands sought out his body for comfort. They watched the screen as the movie began to play, content and satisfied with their proximity – and oblivious to the stares of their friends.  
Derek, unaware of the week's events, turned to Scott with an incredulous look on his face.  
''What the fu-''  
Scott lunged towards the older boy, slapping a hand across his mouth before more words could escape and his voice could rise in volume. Allison shook her head frantically in the background, pleading Derek with her eyes.  
Scott stared at him, still silencing Derek through force, whose eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.  
''Please… don't say a word.''

When the sheriff woke on Sunday morning, he was greeted with the sight of empty take-out boxes in his living room and a pile of abandoned blankets. Sighing, he walked into the kitchen to make himself a coffee.  
_'At least it's not drunken teenagers and empty vodka bottles'_, he thought to himself. Sliding bacon into the pan, he made his way back upstairs, ready to wake his son and send him to his tidying up duties. He was surprised the smell of cooking food had not already roused him.  
Knocking softly on the door, the sheriff pushed it open with a soft creak. His eyes adjusted to the dim, morning sunlight that flooded through an opening in the curtains. Through the haze, he saw Stiles' body shift under the duvet – and then he seen another stir, a much smaller one; surround by his son and with only a mane of strawberry blonde curls visible.  
Even in their sleep they were aware of each other's presence. Lydia stretched languidly, before curling her body back into Stiles' side, his arm automatically reaching to her. He enveloped her in his arms, crushing her to his bare chest as she smiled sleepily in response.  
The sheriff watched as his son gently burrowed his face into Lydia's tangle of curls. With a soft smile, he gently closed the door.  
He didn't say a word.


End file.
